


Together We Fall

by Who_Watches_the_Watchman



Series: You're the One I Believe In [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Al's advice, Candles, Established Relationship, M/M, Pretty domestic, resolved tension, romantic dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Watches_the_Watchman/pseuds/Who_Watches_the_Watchman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truthfully, they’ve had their fair share of arguments before but this one had been worse. There had been some history brought up that should have remained buried and some comments that had been made in that sneeringly-sarcastic tone that was worse than shouting and some hissed insults that had cut the more deeply for being true.<br/>In short, Roy fucked up.<br/>What else is new?<br/>What day doesn’t he? What day doesn’t he wake up and look in the mirror and see the eyes of killer?<br/>What day doesn’t he cover up failures and faults with smoke and mirrors and enough charm to drown innocent bystanders in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together We Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is set a year after the first fic in this series. And just for the record, I never appreciated weekends until I started working and now I'm sorry I ever took them for granted.

It’s been a long, long day at work and Roy has only managed to prevent himself from roasting several members of the council because of Hawkeye’s finger tapping a tattoo against her handgun while her gaze remains trained on him.

Thanks be to whoever is listening; it’s Friday. Roy never understood about weekends until he started having to deal with paperwork every weekday and now there’s nothing he loves better than weekends.

Soaking in a tub, spending a quiet night reading, curling up with Ed under the covers at night–

Roy’s rapidly improving mood bursts like a bubble that has just been stabbed ruthlessly with a pin. Because Ed is Not Talking to him right now.

Roy sighs and rubs his forehead as he heads up the walk to his front door. It was stupid, just a disagreement that had gotten rapidly out of hand because Roy was exhausted and angry and Ed was fierce and uncompromising as always.

Truthfully, they’ve had their fair share of arguments before but this one had been worse. There had been some history brought up that should have remained buried and some comments that had been made in that sneeringly-sarcastic tone that was worse than shouting and some hissed insults that had cut the more deeply for being true.

In short, Roy fucked up.

What else is new?

What day _doesn’t_ he? What day doesn’t he wake up and look in the mirror and see the eyes of killer?

What day doesn’t he cover up failures and faults with smoke and mirrors and enough charm to drown innocent bystanders in?

What day doesn’t he compensate and over-compensate for not being everything he should be, for not being enough, for letting down the people that needed him, for hurting those that couldn’t defend themselves, for burning every good thing that he’s ever had, and who is he to ever think that he could have someone like Ed, who is pure and bright and stunning–

Roy realizes that he’s just staring at the key in his hand and he inserts it into the lock and opens the door before that train of thought can go any farther.

_No_ , he tells himself firmly. _We had a fight. It’s not the first and it won’t be the last and if there’s one thing that Maes taught me, it’s how to apologize. How to look someone in the eyes and say, “I was wrong. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me for every horrible thing I said?”_

It’s late, past nine, and he’s not expecting the smell that assaults him the moment he steps inside. It smells fabulous, like stew and in this weather, there’s nothing he wants more. Technically, it’s spring but it’s been raining on and off for two weeks and the sun’s only come out twice and every time he steps outside he instantly becomes cold and damp.

He follows his nose to the kitchen and stops in the doorway, stunned.

The lights have been turned off but there are candles. Candles on the table, on the window sill and on the counter. There’s a pot on the stove which is where the wonderful smell is coming from. The table is set for two and it looks very… romantic.

“I’m guessing you didn’t eat dinner,” Ed says from behind him.

Roy’s not sure how long he’s been there or how long he’s been staring at the setup but when he turns, his tongue promptly gets tangled up in a knot and he just stands there, staring at his lover.

Ed’s wearing a nice white shirt with long sleeves and black pants and he’s barefooted so that Roy can see the gray of his automail foot. He’s got his hair pulled back in a high ponytail and he looks somewhere between tense and warily hopeful.

Roy thinks about stepping forward and pulling him into a hug, but stops before he does. Ed’s made his gesture, now it’s his job to repair the damage he did. “Edward, I owe you an apology.”

Ed’s eyebrows arch but he doesn’t say anything.

Roy takes a deep breath and reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to try and justify what I said; it was stupid and cruel and I’m sorry. And honestly, I came home prepared to grovel and plead to be allowed back into your good graces so I’m still going to ask even though it looks like I don’t need to; will you forgive me for everything I said on Wednesday?”

Ed considers him for a long, long moment, his face blank before he slowly shakes his head. “No.”

Roy’s heart falls, smashes on the floor, shatters into a thousand delicate pieces and his throat constricts. He swallows and offers up his last hope, “Please?”

Ed shakes his head. “No.”

Before Roy has the chance to consider his next move, Ed steps forward, right up next to him, leaving barely an inch between them, and rocks up onto his toes to look Roy in the eye better. “Because you said you loved me Wednesday morning and I don’t think that needs to be forgiven.”

Roy blinks, not sure he’s heard right and then Ed’s hands are curling into the front of his shirt and pulling him closer–

Two days aren’t enough for Roy to have forgotten what kissing Ed is like but it still feels like a revelation, like the sun coming out, like life given form. Ed kisses him passionately, twining his tongue with his but Roy holds back. He’s not sure that he’s been forgiven yet, he’s not sure that it’s all right –

“I’m sorry too, bastard,” Ed growls against his mouth. “I said some shitty things and it wasn’t fair, or right, and of course I forgive you. Now stop holding back and touch me.”

 Roy’s been holding his hands at his sides but he relaxes as soon as Ed gives him permission and he settles both hands on his hips and pulls him closer, tilting his head to slot their mouths together better. “Just for the record I said you were sinfully hot on Wednesday morning too,” he murmurs without pulling back.

Ed draws back enough to say, “Stop talking.” And leans back in to claim his lips again.

Roy slides his hands up Ed’s spine, until he reaches his hair, pulls it free, and strokes his fingers through it, marveling at the silken strands as they slide against his skin. They stay like that for a while, just kissing and touching, Roy marveling once again that he can have _something_ like this, _someone_ like this, someone like _Ed_ …

It’s Ed that finally steps back, smiling brightly, his lips red and kiss-swollen as he gestures toward the table. “Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

Several suggestions concerning appetites rise to Roy’s tongue but he bites them back because he really is hungry and very few things kill the mood faster than a growling stomach. He follows Ed into the kitchen and gets his bowl of stew and sits down opposite Ed.

Ed always used to eat like a starved animal and while he still inhales more than eats, it’s at a much slower pace so that Roy can actually admire him during the process.

“You put a lot of thought into this,” he says finally, before he sips the stew. It’s almost scorching hot and warms him all the way down to his toes.

Ed shifts in his seat and hunches his shoulders. “Wasn’t all my idea,” he mutters. “’t was mostly Al’s.”

Roy’s surprised to say the least. “Al knew we had a fight?” Ed gives him a look that says; I’m-dating-an-idiot. “And he didn’t come and try to remove my head from my shoulders?” That has, after all, been the implied threat should he ever hurt Ed.

Ed smirks dryly. “Al informed me that it was mostly my fault.”

It’s not possible that Roy heard that right. “You mean, he said it was mostly my fault.”

Ed shakes his head and gives a long-suffering sigh. “No, he said I blew it out of proportion first and you were only responding in kind. Which he said you shouldn’t have done but he also said that I shouldn’t have started it.” He waves the hand that’s not holding the spoon in a dismissive gesture. “He said that I initiated it, you reacted, I reacted to you reacting and yada yada.”

Roy smiles and it’s the first real one in two days. “Let me guess, he concluded that we’re both idiots and therefore that we deserve each other?”

“Basically,” Ed grumbles. He hesitates, cuts his eyes at Roy, then away and mumbles something that Roy can’t make out.

“What?” He asks, leaning forward.

Ed goes bright red and he _glowers_. “He also said that I’m easier to handle when I’m getting sex on a regular basis.”

Roy feels the smile sharpen, take on a hint of teeth and he leans back in his seat, letting one arm rest over the back of the chair. “Did he?” He purrs, lowering his eyelids to half-mast.

 Ed throws a pepper shaker at him and Roy ducks, laughing. He’s missed this.

 

 

Ed looks glorious, splayed out on passion-wrecked sheets, half-tangled in the dark red silk, panting softly. Roy’s lying next to him, and has his face nestled in Ed’s hair. A thought strikes him and he laughs quietly.

“What?” Ed asks. He’s probably trying to sound annoyed but all he manages is dreamy.

“I was just thinking,” Roy murmurs.

“About what?” Ed turns his head so that he can look into Roy’s eyes.

“How domestic we’ve gotten.”

Ed thinks about that but it doesn’t seem to be interesting enough to hold his interest because his eyes start to drift shut. “If you start bitching about my hair clogging up the drain I’m gonna draw a mustache on your upper lip while you’re asleep and tell everyone you’re trying to look sophisticated.”

Roy laughs again, watching Ed falling asleep and leans over to kiss his forehead. “Goodnight, Edward darling.”

“Op ‘eing ‘appy.” Ed mumbles even as he leans forward and nuzzles into the crook of Roy’s neck.

Roy slides an arm around him and draws him closer, closing his eyes. He’ll go to his grave knowing he doesn’t deserve this but he’ll _damn_ well be grateful for it until then.

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually thinking that Roy was going to say something about getting married but the Ed in my head wouldn't just go to sleep after a suggestion like that and I didn't really feel like writing a wedding fic when Tierfal already wrote the perfect one as far as I'm concerned. It's been fun!  
> Ah, also, the next Royed one I post will most likely be a Harry Potter AU but it's going to be a while since it's for my girlfriend's birthday and it's not until July so... Yeah. Sorry.


End file.
